A new assassin?
by Ep1c C00k135
Summary: The thief Fastvi embarks on a journey throughout the darkest parts of Skyrim, The Dark Brotherhood however has not just one new recruit but two. An assassin of old from a far off land. Obviously OC with alternate Dark Brotherhood questline
1. Muderers and cutthroats?

"Fine then! I'll invite him out to play! He lives right there I'm going to knock on his door!" a small fair-haired child squeaked.

"No… Child! Wait! That boy, that house! They're cursed," replied a tall dark elf woman.

"Ha! Then I'm right! I knew it, he's trying to have somebody killed!" the boy shouted triumphantly. _What a little asshole,_ I thought, _It's no surprise his parents aren't here, bet she's his nanny or something_.

"All right, I won't deny it child, what you've heard is true. But Aventus Aretino walks a dark path, his actions can only lead to ruin. Now enough. We will speak no more of this; _I_ am the only friend you need."

I decided against my better judgment to inquire about this allegedly "cursed" boy.

"Excuse me," I called to the woman as I ran over to her position beside the house on the bridge, "Excuse me, who lives here?"

The dark elf was tall thin and dressed in a grey-black tunic, she glowered down at me behind a long nose. "No one of_ your_ concern," her voice was high and nasal.

"Please? I'd really like to know," I begged using my ever-so-suave powers of persuasion.

"Fine then, if it is really _that_ important to you, a boy named Aventus Aretino lives here. But I would not recommend going in," she said in her annoyingly high pitched voice, somehow even though she was obviously condemned to the Grey Quarter and not of any import, she managed to sound as if she thought herself superior to all those that surrounded her.

"And why is that?" I asked.

"Because that boy is attempting to summon a band of murderers and cutthroats! This city has enough troubles as it is, without little boys contacting some shadowy group of killers!" She stalked off without another word. _OK then, _I thought. I knew I shouldn't have gone into that house but something possessed me to peek inside.


	2. Creepy damn kid

The door squeaked open on rusty hinges, it sounds cliché but I swear before Talos it did. The door opened up into a narrow hallway with just enough space between the stairs and where the door rested against the wall. I looked up, fruits and vegetables spilled out of wooden barrels. Slowly and quietly, I snuck up the stairs, which opened to a somewhat larger room with a table and a few cupboards and shelves. From somewhere within, I could hear droning chanting, it sounded tired and unsatisfied.

"Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear. Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear."[1] This went on for several minutes; and I got to stand there watching; lucky me. Using the incredible sneaking skills I had picked up throughout my travels I stole from the table a note detailing this particular child's predicament.

_Master Aventus Aretino,_

_I grieve deeply for the loss of your mother; she was a benefit to our city and community. May she rest in peace. Unfortunately, as you surely know, this leaves you without a guardian. It pains me deeply to see you leave our city, but you are to be escorted to the city of Riften, and from there to the Honorhall Orphanage. A guard is due to arrive on Morndas 3__rd__ of first seed. Grelod "the Kind" will be your caretaker from now until you reach an age of maturation._

_Good luck, and may the divines be with you_

_King Ulfric Stormcloak_

I replaced the letter and looked to the child across the room. He seemed completely fixated. Remember how I told you he was creepy? Yeah, this kid was stabbing an effigy of a person complete with heart and organs with a bunch of weird little flowers lying around. And he wouldn't shut the fuck up. Sweet mother, sweet mother and all that nonsense; creepy as hell.

"Um, little boy?" I whispered. He didn't respond. Either I was really good at being sneaky (which was entirely possible) or this kid was entirely fixated on destroying the floor around that skeleton. I walked to him and tapped him on the shoulder. His head snapped around, and his eyes lit up.

"You came! You finally came, I didn't think you would but you finally did!" his voice was a little hoarse and scratchy.

"Um… yup, here I am, Yay!"

"And now that you're finally I can finally get rid of that old crone!"

"Look kid if you could put down that knife, I'd feel a hell of a lot more comfortable. So let's just leave that with the other… um… things?" I said eyeing the gleaming steel dagger he was waving around.

"Oh, haha yeah ok, I didn't really like that stuff either." He proceeded to fling the knife into the wall. It quivered there for a few seconds, he then looked up at me, and asked "So are you going to do it? Huh?"

"Um, do what exactly?" I asked still a little uncertain of the knife.

"Kill that horrible woman at the orphanage! They call her Grelod the kind but she isn't! She's horrible! She always makes us do everything, and she beat us if we didn't do it right! But I got away! I made it here, and then I did the Black Sacrament, with the _things_, and now you're here! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!" that bit bothered me, contrary to what you'd expect the Dark Brotherhood wasn't exactly well liked. Was I really that desperate for a few septims that I would murder a woman in her own orphanage? I reached into my pockets for my coin purse. Apparently I was.


	3. A night to attempt to remember

I walked out on to the street I desperately needed a drink. I rounded the corner at the end of the block and walked towards Candlehearth Hall. The serving girl was friendly enough and I quickly downed several meads, the food was good but the mead was better. After about 5… or 20 I stumbled out into the streets. I don't really remember much of it, but I remember yelling at a guard about how "the Dragonborn deserved more respect from a milk-drinker like him," after being in jail I think the Jarl recognized me and got me a bed at the inn. I proceeded to roll out of aforementioned bed and belly flop onto the wooden floor. There was something sticky on my face and I decided to wash it off rather than figure out what it was. I grabbed a bucket of water lying next to my bed and drenched my face. Long greasy black and blonde hair cascaded down over my face. I felt like throwing up. I turned away from the bucket and held it in. I didn't feel like fetching another pail in the condition I was in. I stood up and the world began to spin. Puke welled up in my throat, and I could taste it in the back of my mouth. The bed called to me once again, and I laid down sideways with my head up against the wall. Ugh. Nothing is worse than a bad hangover. After an indeterminable amount of time just lying there I finally got up. There was a mirror on the wall and I looked in. I needed a bath, badly. It had been at least two months, and my hair had chunks of something in it. I didn't even want to know what. I decided it best if I wash it out immediately. I grabbed it, and bunched up in a ponytail. It still brushed against my back. I put on a tunic to hide my breasts and then my standard issue thieves' guild armor chest piece, next came the leggings, then the bracers, the boots, and lastly the hood. I had customized the hood with a black half-mask; it didn't really do anything to protect me. I just liked the way it looked. I hard carved a large comical grin into it; for irony's sake of course. Brynjolf and Mercer weren't overly fond of it, but seeing as I was one of the only people actually bringing in money for the guild I figured they would just have to tolerate it. I walked out the door of my room at the inn and turned right. The hallway led to more rooms, and eventually the bar. I tossed several septims onto the counter and took my leave. The exit was directly in front of the city gates. I whistled loudly, a long steady tone spiking shrilly at the end, and my horse Övergiven, (pronounced oberyeeven) came sprinting across the long frozen bridge. It clip-clopped to a stop in front of me, and I proceeded to climb on. The saddle was worn smooth and the polished frequently. I tapped my heels against his haunches and he took off down the icy overpass. It spanned the length of a large cold river far below. I reached the end of the bridge without trouble and began the somewhat treacherous descent into the near freezing river. I tied Övergiven to a post near the river and trudged toward the river. I hated bathing in this gods forsaken land. The snow on the bank was at least 4 inches deep. Concentrating intensely I managed to bring a flame up in my palm. I never was one for magic, but it saved my ass here. I let loose the flame and it heated the water and melted the snow around me. I began to undress and ran the warm heat over my body. I stepped into the ridiculously cold water. My flames did nothing to heat the freezing liquid. My nipples immediately stood erect, and I slipped deeper in, urging my now steaming hands to burn warmer. Something urged me to look to my right, a bit up the river stood a khajit glaring lustfully. I glowered at him and picked up my bow. He grinned sheepishly and began to walk away. I fired an arrow into the space between his legs just for good measure.


	4. If looks could kill

The water coursed around me, and even though it was frigid, it felt good. It had been far too long since I had bathed; I got out and walked to my bag. I pulled out a thick bar of soap, and ran back to the river. It was difficult but I think I had finally started to get used to the temperature. I scrubbed the dirt, and grime off and washed all the grease out of my hair. After I had finished, I stepped out of the river, and rushed to get my clothes on. I dried off using a bit of cloth I had lying around in my bag and put my clothes and armor back on. Övergiven whinnied and I mounted him. I pushed my heels into his flanks again, and he whinnied once more and began his trek to Riften.

I directed the horse to the main road easy enough. From there he almost knew the way. Riften was my home, and favorite of the nine holds. The road was easy enough, and relatively free of bandits and other such hazards that frequented roads such as this. The large crossbow slung across my back easily dissuaded anyone who did happen to think that they could make a quick septim off me; along with the long Daedric dagger in it's sheathe. "Fear cuts deeper than swords," a great man once said.

Riften. I loved this city like no other, even greater than my own hometown of Whiterun. The great oaken, studded doors stood before me and the guards nodded, as Övergiven trotted up to the stables. I tossed the stable boy a few septims and he began to polish the worn saddle. I pulled the mask down from my face and let it hang around my neck. I shook my head and the hood fell down across my shoulders as well. Whipping my hair out from the hood, it fell down around my shoulders. Finally letting it fall free after hours of hard riding felt good. I strode past the guards and slid through the great doors. Welcoming me into the city was a large open street splitting off into two districts of the inner city, following the river in the center of town. To the right was my house and Helga's Bunkhouse, an inn, run by a horribly intolerant Dibellan. Straight ahead were a bridge and other shops and destinations. I now strode across the bridge, getting odd stares from some of the city residents. Mjoll was one of the worst; she refused to speak to me anymore now that she knew I was Thieves Guild. _How funny, not two months ago she couldn't keep her eyes off of me, and now, well if looks could kill huh?_ I felt here eyes on my back and shrugged it off, passing the Temple on my left and the town market on my right. The calls of vendors hawking their wares reached my ears, and Brynjolf selling some new "product," I chortled. He always was running some scam. He and I were really the only people that brought in coin these days. He spotted me from his stall, and winked at me. I nodded back and strode quickly into the courtyard of the Temple of Mara.

In the graveyard of the Temple a small, inconspicuous, stone sepulcher lies where no one pays respects. It is broken and derelict and the floor is worn from use. I approached the small covered plinth. I knelt at the small altar as if praying to some long forgotten deity. Carved into the front of the burial chamber and altar was a small sigil, a rhombus encasing a small circle touching all four sides of the rhombus in the center. I depressed the circle and the altar lurched backward then slowly grinded into the wall, revealing a worn set of stairs beneath the plinth. I descended slowly into the stairwell taking care not to hit my head on the slowly retreating false grave above me. When I had reached the bottom I reached for a large chain with a hoop. I pulled it down and the altar reversed the process sliding out of the wall and into it's original resting place. The darkness was whole and I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, but I knew the way. 4 steps forward was the entrance to the Cistern. I measured the steps carefully and found my way down into the darkness.


	5. Oh, Delvin

The light deeper in the hole rushed up to greet me, and I jumped off the ladder onto the flagstones. I turned around and the warm, humid Cistern greeted me, its moist air pushed close against my body. Vipir the Fleet was doing something at a table in the narrow column that our secret entrance opened up to. I brushed past him and patted him on the back, he turned around and grinned.

"Haven't seen you in a few days, where you been?" he asked.

"Went up to Windhelm for a bit, anything exciting happen  
while I was gone?"

"Naught, we still haven't caught that bastard Mercer. But  
we'll tear him to shreds for what he did."

"I'll keep my eyes peeled." I said and began to walk away  
from him.

"Oh and hey," he called after me. I turned to face him

"Karliah wanted you, said it was something important."

"I'll tend to her later; 'something important' is going on  
with me too,"

I walked away and he returned to what he was doing beforehand. The narrow hall opened into a large, round, stone, water reservoir with a band of flagstone running around the edge and a three pronged bridge over the middle. Thrynn practiced his archery to my left and there was a desk to the right.

I strode past Thrynn, and he nodded to me while he loosed an arrow. It sprung  
forth from his bow and struck near his target, the second ring from the center.

"Keep practicing," I called to him.

"Shut up," he called back.

I grinned and continued my walk around the cistern, finally I reached my bed. It  
was in line with several others, only distinguished by a large wooden barrier.  
I sat down on my bed and took off my leather boots; they were not the most  
comfortable things in the world. Next came the breaches and chest armor. I was  
not ashamed to let the other men of the guild see me naked, they were closer to  
me than family. One of the men whistled, and I rolled my eyes. Apparently I had misjudged them.

I got up in a more comfortable outfit, and tossed my old one at the foot of the bed. Leaving the cistern I rounded a corner into the main part of the Thieves Guild hideout; the Ragged Flagon. Ducking through a false panel, I joined the rest of the members of my order. Delvin was eating something and looking over paperwork, Vekel was tending the bar, Vex was threatening someone, and Tonilia was picking at her nails. I walked over to Delvin and sat down on his lap, he was reading something about glass arrows.

"Well hello to you," he said as I tried to find a comfortable spot on his bony knee.

"To you as well," I replied and scooted around some more. He tilted his head forward and kissed me.

"And how has your day been, darling?" He asked. I paused to think of how on Earth I would explain this to him.

"Eventful. You know a lot about the Dark Brotherhood, right?"

"I ought to; I was in for several years."

"Mkay, well some kid just contacted me, he thinks I'm one of them! He sent me on an assassination to kill Grelod the Kind!"

"I hope you do it, the old hag is long overdue," Delvin muttered.

"Is everything a gods-damned joke to you?" I lowered my voice and narrowed my eyes at him. "What if I do this and they find out? They could kill me!"

"What do you want me to do? Yay, good for you! What do you need me to say?" Delvin whispered sharply.

"I want some kind of advice! You know these people, what will happen if I do this?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? It's been years! They could all be dead, I haven't had anything to do with the brotherhood since I left, and you know that."

"Fine, whatever, I don't even know why I'm here." I turned and stalked off. He sighed behind me. That wasn't total bullshit, I didn't actually have any idea why I was here, I just wanted some reassurance I guess. I went back the route I came and found my way out of the guild. The large, heavy, plinth grinded across the flagstone, assaulting my ears once again. Climbing out of the depression in the ground I pulled the chain once again to close it. Walking across the lawn I looked down at the numerous tombstones that decorated the cemetery lawn; Grelod the Kind would be amongst them if I did this. I sat down on one and began to think. Did the Dark Brotherhood even know about this kid? If they did they would probably come after me. But then again I needed the coin. Badly. So badly in fact I found myself wandering over towards Honorhall orphanage, fingering the blade I keep in my boot.


End file.
